


Pancake Day

by deepandlovelydark



Series: Second Chances [26]
Category: MacGyver (TV 1985)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Pancakes, Sleeping In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 03:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13450083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepandlovelydark/pseuds/deepandlovelydark
Summary: He wields a spatula like he does a weapon.With charm, and a certain measure of sarcasm.





	Pancake Day

"Mac, 'm trying to sleep. Shut the thing off already."

"Why," MacGyver mutters, slapping it. "Why did I set an alarm clock for nine o'clock on a Sunday?"

"Pancake day," Jack says, spooning him with sleepy gusto. "I said that you needed your sleep after rolling in at five in the morning, you said that Becky would be here at ten. And damned if you weren't going to have hot pancakes ready for her by then."

"I'm sure I used to be a morning person," MacGyver mumbles. "Is it possible to inherit bad habits from your niece?"

"How would I know? I never had a niece."

"Admit it. You're practically Becky's spare uncle."

"Better me than Murdoc," Jack says, dryly. "And- oh, hell, he'll still be here, won't he? That's going to be so much fun, him and Becky at the same time."

"That last job took longer than we'd counted on," MacGyver says with a yawn. "Which it really shouldn't have...stupidest thing ever. Some hard-core animal rights activists hired us to knock off a couple poachers, but the guy managed to impale himself on a shipment of his own rhino horns. Course, we took the money anyway."

"You n' Murdoc are a couple of right skunks."

"Oh, like you can talk," MacGyver says. Barely intelligibly, which is understandable as he's asleep next minute. 

"Wonder how I'll explain to Becky that she's not getting her pancakes till supper," Jack says. To himself. 

While cognizing on the problem, he manages to fall asleep too. 

********

"English pancakes," Murdoc says to Becky, as he butters the pan. "Elegant. Thin as paper. Sprinkled, and I mean sprinkled, with lemon juice. Not corn syrup or maple syrup or any of the other syrups that Dalton persists in drowning them in."

It'd been a bit of a shock, when she'd come through the door and found somebody else making the Sunday brunch. She's never been left alone with Murdoc before, and it's sort of strange. 

Not that he'd do anything to her. Uncle Mac would- 

not kill him. Of course not. 

"Penny always said you were a great cook."

"Tolerable. Whereas Penny could burn a salad- did, in fact, burn a salad. In my presence. I'd encouraged her to try adding chicken to the mix, and matters did not go well."

"Uh...what'd you do that for?"

"The pleasure of recounting the anecdote, later," Murdoc remarks. He slides the first pancake onto a plate, passes it to her. 

Her first reaction is that it isn't even the same thing; the taste and feel are entirely unlike her uncle's buckwheat-banana recipe. Those are an inch thick, hot and filling. Very much designed for fueling up, against midwinter Minnesota. 

This one's delicate. The product of a lighter clime, airy for an airy temperament. Taste over substance. 

"Not lethal," Murdoc says, observing her intently. "I know that we didn't start off on the best footing. But as it appears we will be thrown into each other's company, from time to time..."

She waits. For him to ask for truce? Forgiveness? Friendship?

"Could I prevail upon you to prepare the bacon for Dalton? My sympathies are rather with MacGyver on that point."

"Now that," Becky says with relief, "I think I can do."

"Always start with an easy one," Murdoc says. "As a piece of professional advice."

"Ah, that's not anything I haven't heard before. Jack's beat you to it, talking about marks."

"Has he now," Murdoc says. Allows himself to look a trifle put out. 

**********  
"It's not like a real pancake," Jack grumbles, attacking his bacon. "I can't use this to make a cheese and bacon sandwich, it'd tear."

"I find your deranged conceit of pancakes as a finger food to be entirely distasteful," Murdoc remarks. "So that's rather a bonus, if anything."

MacGyver rolls his eyes. "Sorry I didn't wake up earlier, Becky."

"'s kay, Unc. You needed your rest."

"I know, but- pancakes tomorrow morning, maybe? I'll try not to sleep in this time."

"Done," Becky agrees, taking another bite. 

It's totally alien. She isn't sure she likes it. 

But her uncle seems to, and- well, maybe it's time she started appreciating new things. 

After all, they're not in Mission City anymore.


End file.
